Ultima Hits the Opera House
by Miss Minerva
Summary: Okay, where to start? It's a preformance of the FFVI World's first band! The notice has been posted and the performance is soon to arrive. Oh, did I mention that this all takes place *five days after the defeat of Kefka*? (Just Kidding) Come on in, we nee
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: These are not my characters, as you very well know

**Disclaimer****:** These are not my characters, as you very well know. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** Okay, if you have been on the FF forum lately, you may have noticed this concept springing from a discussion on the craziest plot ideas **ever**. A few strange accounts of Setzer's rock star worshipping were shared and then the band, Ultima, was born. We haven't been quite the same since.

This is a fun little undertaking that we have decided to go through with, and we hope that you will come along with us and enjoy the ride. So far, the definite participants in this story collaboration are Margaret Rennie, Ntrophi, and myself. If you simply **must** join in the fun, and you are much more than encouraged to do so, e-mail me at: [a_red_thread@hotmail.com][1].

I'll leave the rest of the explaining to the moogle and the imp. (That will make sense a little further down the page, I swear. ^_^)

Now, without further adieu, I give you:

**"Ultima Hits the Opera House"**

The long-awaited debut

of the World's first band

Intro

A moogle walks across the screen. He is carrying a piece of paper. Once he's halfway, his little waddle comes to a halt and he turns his back to the screen. Takes out a little hammer. Rap rap rap. He turns a struts off the screen, leaving the paper tacked to the wall. The camera pans in to show the notice full-screen. It is written in a lovely cursive hand, displaced in areas by a cut and paste effect. It's been photocopied about five times, it seems. The headline reads:

Ultima Hits the Opera House! 

No need to be alarmed though, as the next line clearly states:

This Saturday! Tickets on sale at the box office

Only 50GP per person

The badly reproduced image underneath depicts, vaguely, a beautiful blond woman. She is wielding a guitar like a weapon. The sight is quite ecstatic, and several young men are crowding the notice, to the obvious disgust of the prim ladies coming from the Jidoorian flower shop. "Punk kids."

So the buzz surrounding the band has begun. Things have been changing in the World lately. The World is fast approaching a renaissance, of sorts. A World which is now referred to as The World of Rebirth. There has been a buzz of excitement and rumor recently. The invention of the guitar caused stirs of ecstasy. Young men and women alike have been found thrashing away at the new invention.

Yes, a change is in the air.

And the concert is the upcoming Saturday. Then the phenomenon that will come to be known as Ultima will grace the stage for the very first time.

~*~

A moogle walks across the screen, followed by an imp. They halt at the very center of the screen. The moogle jumps up and flutters his furry arms in the air.

"Kuu-uoppo! You know what time it is now, right, boys and girls?" 

He turns to the imp, who spins around with a flourish.

"It's Instruction time!"

"Kupo! Yeah. That's right."

The two do a little dance. You groan and unceremoniously throw something at the screen.

"Sorry."

"Kupo Kupoo. Okay, it goes like this. The band, Ultima, will perform here on Saturday, and you can come here, at the Opera House, to attend it. Just here, okay? Where you saw the notice. Okay, repeat that back to me!! Kupo-upoo!"

"Here, the band Ultima will perform at the Opera house on Saturday."

"Got it! Ku-uopppooo. Then there will be several reviews gleaned from various attendants, which will be posted all along the Jidoor strip, and by that I mean posted on the notice board here in Jidoor. Kupo. Got it? Yeah? So say it!! Kupo!"

"Reviews will be posted after the show."

"Kupo! Right on!"

The two creatures stare out dumbly at you for a moment longer. Shrug at each other. Then…

"Oh yeah, kupo me! I almost forgot. Here is your ticket. I got it directly from The Man himself, kupoo poo. That's Mr. Setzer Gabbiani to all of you folks. If you were in the business, you'd probably know him as The Man too. Kupo! Right?"

"The Man."

"Uh. Kupo! Silly imp!"

They rush off, with the moogle in fast pursuit of the imp, who is dead scared.

You hold the ticket and read it carefully:

Ultima 

One showing only – The Opera House, Saturday

Ultima is:

Celes Chere – the beautiful lead vocals, guitar

Edgar Figaro – lead guitar

Locke Cole – bass guitar

Sabin Figaro – drums and percussion

For further information, contact Mr. Gabbiani.

You shrug and put it into your pocket for future reference.

So, Saturday then, you repeat in your mind.

And then, the screen fades out.

   [1]: mailto:a_red_thread@hotmail.com



	2. The First Performance

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine

**Disclaimer: **Nope, not mine: Square's. C'est ne pas de copyright infringement. Je taime Locke, forever! (Just testing to see if anyone actually read these…)

**Author's Note:** Okay, it took me a while, but here it is! Performance one of Ultima, the FFVI world's first rock band ever. Remember that this is very likely taking place just-five-minutes after the events in the game! **Well, maybe a little later.** A few things you'll want to keep a look out for: 

  1. Possibly the most obvious author-insert in the history of fan fiction. Trust me, you'll know. Not that I actually **do** much… Besides act like a complete and utter tool.
  2. Lots, I repeat, **lots** of fan-girls. Yes, in every sense of the word. ^_^ All in good humour, so don't bother to hunt me down if you are a Terra/anyone fan. 
  3. Locke-related merchandise. Don't forget to buy something at the door. (Eh, Maggie?)
  4. A stray (and as of now, unidentified) cloak-wearing hamster! (I wonder who owns it? ~_^)
  5. Mary-Sues, but trust me, not the way you'd expect. Hehe…
  6. Cyan. Yes, he is in there. And Strago. And even Gau. See? There's something for everyone!
  7. Celebrities. One-off FF versions, or otherwise. Further disclaimers concerning those at the end, to avoid giving away surprises…

Okay, that said. Get ready. Don't forget your tickets.

So, hold on to your knickers, boys and girls! Here it comes…

"Ultima Hits the Opera House" 

By 8:00, the Opera House was already packed. The Ultima show was not to start until 9:30, the stage being warmed up for them by the opening act, the singing chocobo. Setzer paced his dressing room, eyeing his watch. Solid gold, pleasingly enough, and he smiled. But the time! Would the outfits ever arrive? He was already quite fed up with the hired help. The seamstress from Thamasa was supposed to be the very best in the land, and apparently, he noted, the slowest as well. Setzer was going stir crazy. Was he not the most important figure in the World's entertainment industry? Did they not know whom they were working for? 

"Vivi Westwood…" grumble, grumble… "Born on a farm…" Fiddling with his watch strap, pacing some more. "World renowned seamstress, my ass…"

Then, to his great delight, a short stumpy man entered the room. "I have a guest downstairs, to meet with The Man."

"About time." Setzer thanked the man and strutted his way happily to the foyer. He did a once-over to see if his outfit was suitably perfect. It was, of course.

The woman, Vivi, was dressed in a number of her own creations. She was a full-figured, colourfully dressed woman, obviously from Thamasa. Possibly even Relm's mother, judging by the look of her punk attire. She greeted him flamboyantly, "Setzer, The Man himself! Wonderful to finally meet you in person, darling."

"Yes, charmed." Setzer reached for her hand and gracefully kissed it. She was ruggedly attractive, he decided. Just his type. "Have you the outfits?"

"Of course."

"Shall we?"

"Yes, we shall." And they proceeded to the change rooms of the four band members.

~*~

They checked in Locke Cole's room first, which was easily identifiable by the additional sign he had placed below his name on the door, which read "Treasure Hunter, extraordinaire.They strode into the room with loud greetings, but stopped suddenly. Silence. Locke was not there.

They found him, of course, in his fellow band-mate's room: the beautiful chanteuse, Celes Chere. Conveniently, their clothes were already mostly off.

"Setzer!" Locke yelped, "You gotta learn how to knock, right!" He and Celes huddled sheepishly behind a couch, blushing bright red.

"Oh, keep your manners and your hormones to yourself, thief boy."

"Thief boy? That's it, you pompous goat! You're so finished…" Locke jumped to his feet, hastily, and then reconsidered when Celes knocked his legs out from under him.

"Locke, you're not wearing any pants! Think about it!"

"Oh, right." He grinned, sheepishly.

"Okay, you two. Clue it up. Here are your clothes." Setzer rolled his eyes and then threw Vivi's lovingly sewn costumes unto the couch. "You're on in an hour. I suppose that is enough time for you two to get dressed?"

"Save it, Setzer." Celes grinned and puckered her lips seductively at him, and laughed. Setzer turned red, and flustered.

"Stop that! I hate you…"

Hardly." Celes giggled. Setzer stormed from the room. Yelled back through the door.

"I'm warning you two! One hour! Be there!" They sighed and one Setzer was out of earshot, they began to check out their costumes.

"So what sort of beautiful things is he trying to wrap us in this time?" Locke sauntered over to the pile of clothes. Picking up what he assumed was his, as the other object was a dress, and a short one at that. "Guess I outta try these out then." He stepped into the bathroom to change. Celes laughed at him hiding behind the door.

"You've become shy all of a sudden?

"No, well. I want to see how this looks first."

"Oh, you." While Locke was sorting through his garb, Celes lifted the delicate fabric that had been selected for her form the couch. White satin dress, very lovely, and a pale blue scarf of the same material, which matched her eyes. And boots, she noticed, deep blue and of the high kick-ass variety. She smiled, very pleased, and slipped into them her outfit quietly. Inside the bathroom, Locke seemed to be having trouble.

"I'm not wearing this…"

"Don't be silly, Locke."

"Maybe once I alter it slightly…"

"You're so fussy."

"Yeah, well… " There was a long disgusted pause. "What the bloody hell?! Is that a codpiece?"Celes fell over laughing.

"This I have to see!" She approached, giggling.

"No! Stay away!" He yelped, "I'm not that ready yet." There is some more shuffling noise. "Thank merciful @*#$ that could be removed…" A pause. "Okay, babe. Ready-o." He kicked open the door with a flourish. 

His jaw dropped. "Oh my…" She was stunning in her white dress, which was truly quite short. It made her legs look like they went on forever. He tried to lose the dazed look, but it was impossible. "You are amazing, Celes."

Celes smiled. Locke was wearing an outfit that was in no way any different from what he always wore, except it was mostly black and made of slightly more expensive materials. All the things that he had deemed unworthy lay on the floor, she noticed, and laughed at the ridiculousness of some of them. Setzer's golden sense of humour, obviously.

"You look… good, Locke."

"Yeah, really? Well, then you look completely delicious." He grinned, and in simply no time at all they had managed to get themselves right back in the same situation that they had been when Setzer had dropped by with their clothes.

~*~

Edgar eyed his outfit in the mirror, posing in all manners of cocky postures. "Nice, very nice." He spoke to his own reflection, and cocked his eyebrow, smiling. "Excuse me, you're very lovely…" Put his hand to his chin. "Why yes, I **am** with the band… You thought I was amazing? Well, perhaps I **will** join you for the evening…" 

"Are you done yet?" Edgar jumped and let out a yelp.

"Argh! Who… Oh, it's you, brother."

"Were you talking to yourself again, Edgar?" Sabin crossed his meaty arms and laughed heartily. "You crack me up, brother." He sat next to Edgar on a stool.

"Your costume looks fine, Sabin." His brother was wearing a dark and very basic material, in a military-inspired style.

"Yeah, well you know me… It's a bit fancy for my tastes. I'll probably lose the shirt anyway once I start to play. It's too confining…"

Edgar felt sweat beads form on the back of his neck. "The ladies ought to like that…" He clenched his fists with envy of his brothers physique. 

"Oh brother… Ladies, always ladies…" Edgar raised an eyebrow at Sabin.

"Well what else would I worry about?"

"Nevermind." Sabin rubbed his exposed arm. "You wanna do me a favour?"

"Well… Depends on what it is. I don't want to mess up my costume." Edgar fiddled with his collar, which was white and made a lovely contrast with his dark blue jacket.

"I want you to shave my head for me."

"**What?!**" Edgar stood dumb in shock. "Why in the name of **Figaro** do you want to do **that**?"

"I dunno." Sabin shrugged his shoulders. "It looks cool… My head won't get so warm…" Edgar ran his fingers through his lustrous hair and sighed. He could never part with his pride and joy. "Look, Edgar. So I don't have lovely pony-hair like you! I got the shit-end of the genetics for hair, alright, so stop rubbing it in and get a razor…"

"Okay, but won't you get…" He paused in revulsion. "sweat… in your eyes."

"I'll wear a bandanna." Edgar just stared. Made a face that read as "C'mon-you-know-who-does-that-and-you-don't-want-fashion-advice-from-him-do-you?!" Sabin sighed in exasperation. "Lot's of people wear bandannas, Edgar!"

"Sure, If you say so… " He went to the bathroom for a razor. "Are you sure this complies with Setzer's vision of how this event should go over?"

"Frankly, I don't really care." Sabin sighed, and sat down next to the door and waited, babbling. "Stick it to The Man, Edgar. Stick it to The Man!" He roared in laughter. Edgar simply stared, then shook his head.

"I wonder about you sometimes, Sabin… I think you spend too much time with that wacky Gau kid." And he began to lather his brother's head with shaving cream. "Here's a towel. Try not to ruin your clothes" Sabin sighed, but knew better than to respond while Edgar held a razor. At least he hadn't tried to use one of his inventions to do the job. Sabin liked and intended to keep both of his ears. And so the hair removal began…

~*~

Standing just outside and to the left of the Opera house, a young woman stood and perused the concession stands. Mia Merton had travelled endlessly to see this concert and was now eagerly buying t-shirts as souvenirs. She pulled a baby blue one over her head and smiled as her reflection showed the handsome face of Locke shining back at her. "You're a Locke Cole fan then, I take it?" The salesman chuckled. 

"That's an understatement if there ever was one." She grinned.

"Yeah, well if sales are any indication, you ain't the only one, girl." He chewed on a rather large piece of tobacco, and grinned some more. "That comes to 50 GP."

"50 GP?" She feels her heart sink and then, reluctantly forks over the cash, mumbling to herself as she leaves. "Stupid overpriced concert merchandise…" and enters the foyer. 

~*~

Inside, the singing chocobo had taken the stage. 

A small, wild-looking boy hung from the side of the balcony, and shouted excitedly. "Bird go singing! Sing bird! Cho-Cho-Chocobo! Gauauau!" He was followed to the edge of the balcony by an older gentleman, who chided him and reached for his hand.

"Sir Gau, would thou please get down from there and choose a seat next to me?"

"Mister Thou! Mr. Thou! Look at the Chooo-Cobo! Gauwau!"

"Yes, I see it Sir Gau, and wouldst thou please refrain from calling me that…"

"Thou Thou Thou!"

"Oh… 80GP is not nearly enough for this babysitting job. Sir Sabin will certainly be hearing about it."

Gau continued to shout and hang from the balcony.

Cyan looked to his left at a man shrouded in odd dark clothes, sitting low in his seat, petting what looked like a fully clothed hamster. He was laughing violently in a rather strange manner. "Ummm, excuse me sir? Dost thou find this amusing?" Cyan inquired, indignantly.

"Thou, Thou, Mr. Thou!" Gau shouts.

"Oh, dear me…"

~*~

Outside, Relm chatted anxiously with her excited group of friends. All squirming excitedly in line outside the Opera House. The band was soon going to start soon and so giggling crowds of girls had begun to swarm, along with the other guests. "These chicks are so bubbly." Spat Relm. "What's their problem?"

"Oh, only that Locke Cole is the hottest hottie in the whole universe!" shrieked her friend, Pedra. Relm gave her a look of pure disgust.

"Yeah, he's not bad, I suppose." Relm sighed.

"I can't believe you used to travel with them! How lucky!" Gigi was waving her Locke action figure in the air excitedly. Relm raised an eyebrow at her too. Man, talk about concert frenzy.

"I'll bet you had a crush on him, Relm!"

"No, actually I didn't. Saw him naked a few times. That was pretty common. But, no. No crush…" Relm rolled her eyes, and adjusted her glittery belt.

"You saw him naked? Eeeeee!" Pedra shrilled. "I'm going to faint!"

"I was joking."

"I knew that…" Pedra frowned and crossed her arms. "Why are you being such a grump, anyway?"

"Aren't I always like this?" Pouted Relm, fixing her dangling earring.

"Yeah, maybe." Pedra laughed. "I still can't wait to see him. He's such a hottie!"

"Edgar's better." Said Gigi, who had now produced an Edgar figure and was waving them both around.

"Gimmie that." Relm grabbed the Edgar figure violently, and its head fell off. She laughed so hard her stomach hurt. "Sorry."

"I paid 20GP for that!"

"Oh C'mon…" Pedra scowled, "You're too old for dolls anyway!" Gigi looked indignant.

"They're collectors items…"

"Sure they are."

"Listen, girls." Relm piped up. "I'm getting sick of all this racket. We'd better get in soon." Her patience was wearing thin. She watched as Mog and a pack of moogles walked right by and to the front of the line. He looked at her and flashed a VIP card at her, giggling. "Hey! Stupid moogle! Where'd he get that? Shouldn't I have one if the moogle has one?"

"Ha, Relm. Seems like you weren't really friends with them, after all…" Gigi smirked.

"Shut it."

"Okay, girls." Shone Pedra. "New plan. The first one to get Locke's autograph gets 10GP from everyone else. A bet!"

"Simple." Sighed Relm. "Locke goes to mush whenever he sees a damsel in distress… Does sleeping with him count?" She elbowed Gigi in the ribs.

"You won't do that…"

"Dare me." Relm laughed.

"Well, you can try…"

"I'm **joking**!"

"I knew that."

"But, the bet stands, okay?" Pedra harped.

"Yeah, okay…"

"Sure, 10GP."

The line finally started to move again, and the girls went silent. Once inside, Relm split from the ground to try to find a way to get the autograph and win the bet.

~*~

At 9:25, they all gathered backstage.

It was time to head on. The singing chocobo was starting to get on everybody's nerves and Setzer was livid. "Onstage! Onstage, now! I told you to be ready… Sabin! Where's your hair? Ohmigod… We're screwed. Locke, button. Pants button, pal… And the shirt… Yes, better." He let out a deep sigh. "Okay, good luck."

"Thanks man." Sabin slapped Setzer hard on the back. Silver hair flew violently, and Setzer began to cough. 

"Okay, save it for the stage, okay." He regained his composure. Straightened his coat, and headed for the VIP booth.

They eyed each other, breathless, for a moment and then grinned. "Okay," Edgar started, "We can do this… By the way, Celes, Did I ever tell you that you have a really lovely…"

"Pair of boots!" Sabin cut in. "They're quite something." The two brothers made angry faces at each other for a moment, and mouthed some curse words.

"Okay, huddle!" Locke squeaked. They all formed a football formation. "Are we ready?"

"Oh yeah!" Celes purred. "Just try to keep up, boys!" She grinned, and they yelled, charging stage. The singing chocobo never knew what hit it.

~*~

Celes stood tall, and eyed the crowd, who responded to her every movement. Not since being an Imperial general has she felt such power, and she liked it. She smiled and spoke clearly into the microphone. "Hello everyone." The crowd roared. "My name is Celes Chere, and this is my band, Ultima." More whistles from the crowd.

"Let me introduce my band members to you. On drums: Sabin Rene Figaro. On lead guitar: King Edgar Roni Figaro. On bass, my favourite man: Locke Cole." She blew Locke a kiss, and the audience cheered. The boys each took a little bow and launched into a brief duel of instruments. Celes bent down and picked up her own guitar, tossed the strap over her shoulder. 

"The last time I performed here, I sang you an aria." The crowd cheered again, and Setzer whistled from the VIP booth. "But not so tonight. Tonight we are going to rock this Opera House, so get ready…" She motioned to the others. "Hit it, boys."

And so they began. The whole building shook with eager participants, and in the front of the room, before the stage, a mosh pit began to form.

~*~

Terra wandered through the crowds on the floor, trying to find someone to sell her backstage pass to. She didn't really understand why Setzer had insisted in giving her one as it was unlikely she would be mistaken backstage for a fan that just happed to have green hair. Plus, she could get a bit of money to buy one of the cute little Sabin action figures that they were selling outside, and bring it home for the children of Mobliz to play with. Heck, maybe she could even earn enough to get all four of them.

She found herself in a rather congested corner of the non-seated area, and tried to act inconspicuous. She stood next to a girl in a baby blue Locke t-shirt, and subtly stroked her backstage pass between her fingers. It worked like a charmed. The girl's eyed bugged, "Is that what I think it is?"

"MmmmHHmmmm." Terra hummed coolly.

"Wait a minute!" She eyed the green hair, "You're Terra, aren't you."

"No, my name is Tina. Sorry." She smiled playfully. Behind her a young teenaged girl was pulling her arm impatiently. Covered in colourful garb, she realized quickly that it was Relm.

"Terra, you have to sell me that…"

"Shhh, it's Tina, okay?"

"Whatever." And muttered under her breath, "Esper freak." Terra looked back and forth between the two girls, but Relm looked obviously much meaner. "C'mon Terra! What's the hold up?"

"Well, I was…" Terra didn't know whom she should sell the ticket to. Angry Relm, or the girl who had asked first. Oh, poor soft hearted me, she thought. Why can't I ever make up my mind? Ever?

"Hey look over there! Is that Moby?" Relm feigned excitement and the other girl lit up like a match.

"Where?" She strained her eyes in anticipation. "Omigod, it is!" And she took off through the crowd. Never to be seen again.

Terra raised an eyebrow at Relm. "Who's Moby?"

"I don't know… Made it up. Can I have the backstage pass now?" 

"It'll cost ya…" They haggled a bit, then made what both considered a fair exchange, and Relm soon disappeared into the crowd. Terra sighed. "Wow, Relm sure grew up fast…" Then she paused, and did the math, "Wait, that's impossible! What the hell? That can't be right…" Counts on fingers. "Ten… Plus One… Plus three months… plus just five days… She looks about seventeen! Oy. What's Strago feeding that girl?" Terra stood puzzled as hordes of fans pushed their way past her toward the mosh pit.

~*~

Celes crooned into the microphone, "I had a dream last night about this blond musician, but I can't remember her name, so I'll just call her Blondie." The audience cheered. They would have cheered if she told them that she had eaten raisin bran for breakfast.

"In my dream, Blondie sang a song, and I'm going to sing it for you tonight. Okay, boys…"

Instantly, Edgar let a few angry chords rip from his guitar, and soon the whole Opera House was rocking. Celes belted out the words with pure passion.

"One way or another I'm gonna find ya  
I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha…"

The audience roared in enthusiastic support. Celes strutted across the stage, tearing on her guitar, twirling her long blond hair for the delight of all present. Her long pale blue scarf fluttered behind her.

The excitement in the audience grew to a feverish level. Everyone present, even those seated in the balcony, seemed to be dancing.

~*~

Terra wasn't completely sure how she ended up in the mosh pit, but there she was. She found that she was drowning in a pool of excitedly quivering fan-girls. "Paladin save me…" She muttered, as she inexplicably began to float across the surface of the people in the pit.

"Is that **Terra** in the mosh pit?" Edgar strained his eyes in disbelief. A girl saw him and smiled gaily at Terra, "Looks like Edgar-Chan is looking at you! How cute."

Another added, "Yes, look how he loves her!"

And, "Oooh! I love Edgar/Terra."

"That's Edgarra, silly." And so on…

"Ewh! Edgar? Gross…" Terra was obviously repulsed. "Hey, let me down from here! I'm getting sick…" No such luck, as she was now at the mercy of the fan-girls in the pit. Several young males shrugged at one another, but resumed staring at Celes. Terra grew very frightened.

"I have an idea!" said one, "Let's throw her onto stage next to Locke! Then they can go get mar-ried!" Lots of hearts and swirl little anime star thingies were filling the air, as the Locke/Terra fan-girls began to swarm her.

"Help…" Terra was turning a very pale colour, something like the complexion she wore as an Esper.

"Locke/Terra! Locke/Terra!" They chanted, and began to toss her towards the stage. "Hand her over there to Mary Sue, and she'll tossed her over the edge" said one.

"Mary Sue? But I'm Mary-Sue!" One protested.

"What? You're burnt! I am Mary Sue!"

"No, I am!!!" Another piped in. There was a long angry pause.

A huge catfight ensued and in the confusion, Terra was tossed like a rag-doll unto the floor. Under all the legs, which were kicking feverishly, she tried to find a safe way out. "Pssst, over here." A woman wearing a red t-shirt that said, "Locke Cole is a stud." reached for her hand. "I know a way out of here, just duck from the fan-girls…"

"Thanks…"

"Umm, Maggie."

"Thanks, Mag."

"Shush. Don't reveal my identity in here... Quiet." She made a nervous gesture.

"Uh, okay. Whatever." So Terra and the woman fled safely to a distance from the stage, split up, and enjoyed the show elsewhere.

~*~

Locke, totally engrossed in his bass and Celes' dancing, is suddenly, inexplicably, hit in the face by a pair of women's knickers.

He misses a few notes in a flustered confusion. "Hey, what the… Who threw that?" Scanning the audience, he finds no obviously guilty looking party. He looked down at the panties, monogrammed with the initials MR, shrugged, a placed the knickers down beside him.

In all the confusion, the song ended suddenly. Celes strolled over towards Locke and reached down to pick up the knickers. "Yours?" She laughed. Locke took them from her hand and lay them beside him again. 

"Hey, yeah." She rolled her eyes. "Souvenir"

"Right." She reached for his bass. "Can I play?" 

"Sure. But I get your guitar, and I also get to sing, then."

"You can sing?" Celes' eyes grew large. "I like you more already."

"No, seriously. I have one ready…"

"Go for it." She smiled. Locke explained briefly what they were to play, the three nodded, and he stepped up to the microphone. He was drowned out by the screaming girls before he had even opened his mouth. Edgar rolled his eyes, and Sabin died laughing at him.

"Hi." Locke said, fiddling with the strings on Celes' guitar, to the obvious delight of the entire mosh pit. "I'm going to sing a song." Celes jumped into the bass right away, and Edgar and Sabin got their wits about them quickly. It was going to be a wild ride. 

Locke crooned:

"You're perfect in the way, a perfect end today  
you're burning out their lights, and burning in their eyes…"

Celes was enviously good at playing bass as well as singing, and the crowd adored her. The feedback from the guitars was causing the whole Opera House to shake. A small, strangely dressed, hamster sat on one end of a balcony and swayed suspiciously to the music. The mosh pit was bubbling like an effervescent drink.

Relm stood to the back and left of all the commotion, blissfully holding her backstage pass. She was so going to win that bet, she chuckled. She shook her head in disgust as Strago was pulled out of the mosh pit and ushered unto a stretcher. Silly old man, she sighed, he knew that his back wasn't the best. And she hadn't even known that he was present at the concert. He'll be sorry tomorrow when he wakes up…

"…Another lovers day, another cracked up night  
every night I say, the light is coming…"

Locke was obviously really enjoying himself at the microphone and now, instead of one pair of knickers, he was being nearly buried alive in various women's lingerie and accessories. Edgar looked positively ill. Sabin laughed heartily. Celes grinned, and made kissy-faces at Edgar. Edgar was soon near tears.

The band kept rocking, and the crowd roared in approval. Eventually, when they tried to leave the stage, they were called back for an encore. When they crowd was finally satisfied, they were all very tired. 

~*~

After the show, Relm waited impatiently at the door to backstage, scanning for Locke. Would she even get a chance to ask him? She pouted. "He's probably off somewhere slobbering all over Celes…" Then she heard something. It was Locke and Celes, wandering about backstage, giggling on the way to their dressing rooms. "There." But how to get his autograph with Celes there? The last thing she wanted was to seem like she wanted her man…

"Umm, hey Locke!" She spoke up, then immediately felt like a big idiot fan-girl. She stood there, pass in hand, smiling sheepishly. "Could you come here for a minute?"

"Uh, okay." She glanced at Celes, and mouthed, "Just a minute." Celes smiled suspiciously, but seemed very amused. He looked quizzically at Relm, and she decided that he may be half cute, after all. "What you want?"

"Um… Can I have your autograph?" She cringed at the sound of her own voice saying the words, and felt herself turn violently purple, which Locke mistakenly interpreted as the nervous blush of a crushing teenager. He grinned.

"Sure, Relm." He wrote his name unto on of his bandannas and handed it to her, and smiled. "That okay?"

"Fine." She ripped it from his hands. "Thanks, man."

"No problem, dear." And he turned back to Celes. Dear? Oh sweet mercy, thought Relm, he thinks I'm a kid. A stupid drooling fan-girl at that! She wasn't sure if she would ever live this down…

As they continued walking, Relm was sure she heard Celes giggle and say something to Locke about his little girlfriend. Relm was sure that she would lose her lunch soon, so she decided to flee the scene, and fast.

Well, the bet was won, at least. She amused herself with the wild stories that she planned to tell the girls. Oh yes, especially with the bandanna. That was pure gold. She smiled already, and planned what she would spend her 20GP on.

Maybe a Locke figurine, she thought, then howled uncontrollably.

~*~

Outside, a man wearing a dark ninja outfit perused the concession stands. He eventually handed over a handful of GP for an action figure. "That one…" He mumbled and gestured toward a Locke figure.

"You want a **Locke** figure?" The salesman eyed him suspiciously.

"It's for my daughter, idiot." Sighed exasperated, "This ain't **that** kind of story, okay?"

"Whatever you say, man." And he handed it over.

~*~

Edgar stood in the foyer, signing autographs. His hair glistened with pride. "Yes, yes, that's right. I play guitar…" Sabin watched from a vantage nearby and groaned. 

"Oh brother…"

"And how many signatures? Two? Okay, but don't tell anyone…" Edgar scribbled his name with a flourish for the young girl, who stared at it for a second and then protested:

"You're not Locke!" Edgar turned purple and steamed at the ears.

"What? Of course not!"

"Bleh. I wanted Locke's autograph…" She turned to her friend. "Let's go. Maybe we can find Locke somewhere else…" Edgar looked like he was about to vomit. Sabin fell over laughing.

"I can hear you, brother! I'm not amused at all!"

"You…You should have seen… Your **face**!" Sabin started to hyperventilate violently, only to spring to his feet abruptly as Edgar began to chase him in a blind rage.

"Sabin… I'm going to hook you up to my noise blaster and set it on maximum output! Maybe that will drown out your big mouth!" They both ran through the corridors of the Opera House for quite some time. They flew right by Setzer, who was happily conversing with Vivi Westwood about the performance.

"Yes, yes, it was wonderful, Setzer, darling."

"Yeah, and it made a **killing** at the box office…" 

"I'm impressed. Is there a chance we may work together again?"

"Of course. You're costumes were fabulous! Of course, I plan to have other performances. I'd be an idiot not to, wouldn't I?" Vivi threw he head back in an overenthusiastic laugh.

"Darling! Let's go somewhere for a celebration martini… Or two… Or even three…"

"Vivi, I think I'm in love…" They roared pompously and walked toward the airship to head toward the most posh lounge in Jidoor.

~*~

~The End~

(A cheesy villain voice adds: For now!)

**Disclaimers:** Yes, more. I do not own any of the following people: Vivienne Westwood, Blondie, Moby, all members of Sonic Youth, Margaret Rennie (hehee), Hamka the fanatical hamster, etc. I'm pretty sure that this lovingly-selected assortment of characters qualifies this fic as somewhat of a crossover, to say the very least. 

Music references: One Way or Another, by Blondie and Sugar Kane, by Sonic Youth.

These are copyrighted to their respective owners.

Please do review! You know you want too. ^_^ And please check back for further concert info…


	3. Ntrophi's Chapter

Author note: You people should never encourage me

Author note: You people should never encourage me. I spin my evil ways. I insult every character I come into contact with. I generally destroy stuff. And I insert a strange alter ego of myself. I didn't want a fangirl, and Terra and Relm were already occupied during this.

I do NOT think Edgar is hot by the way. My alter ego does. Be afraid for me.

I don't own any of the boys or girls. Or Green Day, but I never actually mention them. I allude to them. Don't sue! Psi is mine, as is dear Hamka (Not that anyone would be crazy enough to take either of them!) I mean no disrespect. Honest! *evil, Kefka-esque giggle*

Ultima Hits The Opera House: From a slightly different perspective...

By Ntrophi (just to clarify in the midst of all the chaos... The chaaaos!)

It was an hour before the concert and all through the opera house, not a creature was stirring, not even a fangirl. That was mainly because the bouncers hadn't let any of the creeps in yet.

Sat up high on the balcony, a single figure looked down at the stage disdainfully. Those fools. Having saved the world literally five minutes ago, they just had to rub it in and start their own band. They didn't even give a thought to the poor villain who had suffered in their triumph. The figure rubbed it's nose and scowled under it's hood. Well, he would have to see just how good these heros were. They weren't too good at checking whether their nemesis was actually dead. What kind of chance did they have at conquering the music business?

::Squeak...:: a voice piped up beside the figure. The figure turned towards the source and patted the small, hooded hamster on the head. The hamster was dressed exactly like the figure, and had a big bandage on her head. Those infernal heroes couldn't pick on people their own size, now could they?

'Oh no...' the figure murmured softly, bracing itself as the doors opened and every fangirl and boy in the known world poured in. 'They had to pick on those smaller and less human than them...' The figure clenched a fist. Those heroes would have to pay. And pay they would...

After the concert. You never disturbed a show at the Opera House. No siree. That would be like trying to destroy the world and failing miserably.

'Hmm...' the figure mused to itself.

Down at the door, a skeptical looking teenager in a Blue Day shirt was eyeing the merchandise critically.

'You have action figures, extortionate t-shirts and what...?' she said. The salesman grinned and held up a cheap looking drinks container with Ultima's logo splashed all over it.

'Ultima juice - the drink of the band,' The teen rolled her eyes.

'I'm going to kill my friends for dragging me here...' Speaking of which, she was soon swept up in a wave of fangirlness as her three friends popped up beside her.

'Pssssssi! They're letting us in now!' one of them yelled. Psi rolled her eyes.

'Yes, dear...' she muttered. Damn her friends for searching her before they came out. They had taken her stereo, her shovel and her lockpick - all essential tools for escaping this hellhole. If everything had gone the way she had planned, then she would be sat at home, listening to unmerchandised rock.

'Stupid pop crap...' Psi muttered as she was literally dragged into the Opera House.

Back up on the balcony, the figure was about to strangle itself. There was a freaking, singing CHOCOBO on stage. Just about resisting the urge to stand up, break his cover and fry the damned thing, the figure began to pet the hamster.

'WWWWW-WWWAAAARK!!' the chocobo warbled. The petting turned into firm slapping.

'W-WAAAAARRRRRK WARK!' the chocobo continued. The firm slapping turned into brutal pounding.

::Squeak!:: the hamster complained. The figure growled.

'Blame the bird...' he muttered. The hamster turned towards the performing bird. It's eyes narrowed. Evilly.

'Bird go singing! Sing bird! Cho-Cho-Chocobo! Gauauau!'

The figure and the hamster both turned towards the ungainly yelling and sank their heads into their hands as one. Typical. An entire evening sat next to neanderthal boy and crying man.

'Sir Gau, would thou please get down from there and choose a seat next to me?' Cyan yelled. The figure smirked.

'Why don't you both just fall off...?' he muttered quietly.

::Squeak, squeaking squeak!:: the hamster finished. Cue much evil and strange laughter from the mysterious pair. They didn't even hear the old man's question, and that wasn't neccessarily a bad thing. The figure's response would probably have included a whole bunch of words that we couldn't reproduce here.

Now Psi was unhappy. Truly, suicidally unhappy. She was surrounded by screaming fangirls and boys. Her friends were arguing over who was hotter; Locke or Sabin. And there was a chocobo on stage. It was singing. Or trying to. She dropped her head into her hands and started to pray for some kind of natural disaster to befall the Opera House.

'Earthquake, tornado, Light of Judgement, Return of Kefka... Anything!' she mumbled. Her friend, Ver slapped her on the back.

'Cheer up, Psi! They're going to be on in a minute! I can't believe it!! Locke is soooooo sexy!'

'He is NOT, Sabin is!'

'Who said Sabin was hotter than the Lockester?'

'Locke?! WHERE?!?'

'What about Edgar?' an innocent looking ten year old piped up. The rest of the fangirls exchanged glances and burst into laughter.

'Edgar?! Haaah! No-one beats Locke,'

'Sabin!'

'Locke!!'

'SABIN!!'

Psi ducked just in time as a crowd of hyperactive fangirls all jumped at each other. Watching the catfight from her vantage point beneath them, she snickered evilly.

'Now, THIS is entertaining,'

It was not long before the hamster, the figure and poor Psi were put out of their misery and introduced to a new kind of torture; sitting and watching a bunch of heroes who thought they were rock stars.

As soon as the performance began the figure felt he HAD to get the hell out before he was sick.

'Watch the seats, Hamka...' he whispered as the heroes burst onto the stage and everyone inside was unable to hear their own thoughts. 'Fry anyone who dares take them... Uwhee...' The hamster, now pleased that the author was using her name now, nodded eagerly and crouched in the seat; ready to pounce on any poor soul that passed by. The figure paused and struck a cheesy villainous pose.

'I'm off to wreack havoc and chaos! Perhaps Ultima will hit the Opera House... Literally!! Uwhaa haa haa!!!'

::Squaa haa haa!!:: Hamka echoed. Beside them, Cyan was trying not to notice. This was not his day.

The figure began to head backstage; casting strange spells on anyone who dared get in his way. Two fangirls succumbed to a blast of Melon3. A security guard was flattened (literally) by Bookshelf2. The figure had to shake his head. Fruits and pieces of wood had nothing on a good Flare spell. Damn those heroes for taking proper magic away. It was kind of embarassing making up your own spells.

Still, he continued backstage, and soon was watching the band from the side. A few feet in front of him, that idiot gambler Setzer was stood, chatting up some women who was dressed in VERY bright clothes. The figure had to admire her taste in clashing shades of green and red.

*I must get her business card...* he thought as he continued further backstage; felling a couple of stage hands with a flash of CrispPacket4.5. No-one seemed to notice. They were all tied up in the music...

In the midst of the mosh pit, Psi was actually enjoying herself. The music wasn't actually that bad, and she had to say that the lead guitarist was pretty damned hot. Alright, so he looked almost exactly like the drummer, but that long lucious hair was such a sexy feature. Though the bass player and the lead singer were kind of irritating in a cutesy kind of way. The way they looked at each other. It was sickening and made Psi want to write something nasty about them. But, she didn't have any paper. Or a pen. Darn. Well, she could content herself with drooling over the lead guitarist.

She purred and continued to jump to the beat. These guys weren't so bad. Nice rhythms, good lyrics. Hot damn, they were pretty entertaining.

'They're not too bad, eh?' she yelled to Ver. The girl looked at her with dreamy anime-style eyes.

'Lockey looked at me and smiled...' she breathed dreamily. Psi slapped herself in the forehead. Stupid friends...

Backstage, the figure had found the stairs up to the rafters of the roof. An evil grin graced his face as he spotted a four tonne weight just sat there. It was so tempting. What better means of causing chaos than squashing the main act? He edged closer to it, listening carefully. It was as if the weight were calling out to him.

'Puuuush me on the heeeeroes...' the weight said. The figure blinked.

'Did you actually talk?' he asked. The weight shrugged as best it could.

'Do I look like a therapist to you? I'm a piece of metal. Whether I'm talking or not is up to your twisted sense of reality...' The figure paused, scratching it's head for a moment.

'Eh?' he said. The weight would have rolled it's eyes, had it had any.

'Look. Just get me up there and push me onto the heroes. I'm a busy weight y'know. Things to do, people to kill...' The figure nodded eagerly.

'Whatever you say, Mr Weight!' he yelled, rushing to try and push the weight along the rafters. Eesh. You can't get the bad guys these days, can you?

Hamka was also enjoying herself - much, she imagined, to the displeasure of her pet. What was that? You're surprised that Hamka refers to her owner as a pet? Well, she still had control over the decent magic. She could Flare and Merton and Pearl people. He could only drop magical bookcases on them. Yes, the time had finally come when she could step out of the shadows of her human and become the strongest magical hamster in the world!!

Cyan had to look back to his left when a strange burst of high-pitched laughter erupted beside him. The small, strangely dressed hamster was lying on the seat, laughing her tiny hamster butt off. He raised both eyebrows and went back to watching that Gau didn't lose his grip on the side of the balcony.

'Master Sabin most certainly WILL hear about this...' he muttered, trying to ignore the hysterical hamster beside him and the hyperactive boy in front of him. 'I could be at home mourning my poor family...' That did it. Right at the end of the first song, Cyan burst into tears. Hamka let herself squeak with excitement. Yes. It was all going exactly as she had foreseen... And this music wasn't so bad. She felt she had to... sway to it. So rocky. So angry.

So... soothing.

As the fangirls screamed and Locke took the mike, the hooded figure was slowly pushing the weight along the creaking rafters. How the weight hadn't fallen through and crushed a couple of hundred screaming fans yet was a complete mystery. The figure didn't care. He was having a nice conversation with the weight about the ethics of taking over the world and then destroying it for your own selfish means.

'If I took over the world,' the weight was saying. 'I wouldn't just kill people at my every whim. I would try to punish those who had hurt me and help those who had helped me...' The figure nodded.

'Yeah, but what if no-one tried to help you? What if they gave you an injection and then called you crazy and then tried to kill you and betray you and generally hurt you a lot? Wouldn't you be able to take revenge on the whole world then?' The weight mused over this and then looked up at the figure.

'You're crazy,' The figure paused and grinned proudly.

'You think so?' he exclaimed, crouching down to give the weight a big hug. 'Thank you, so very much,'

'Ah great... Just what I need. A psycho to push me over the edge while he's still attached... I'll never weigh things down again in this town... I'll end up being some glorified paperweight...'

The figure finally detached himself as Locke was launching into the last few lines of the song. The figure looked tearfully at the weight and sniffed.

'I'm going to have to push you off now, and crush all the heroes...' he mumbled. The weight would have smiled in an understanding way. But it didn't have lips. How inconvinient.

'I understand. Was nice talking to you...' The figure started to push half-heartedly. The weight didn't move.

It took a whole four hours for the figure to realize that he was never going to be able to push the weight off the end of the rafter. Not that it mattered. The concert had finished ages ago. The only people who would be crushed were the cleanup crew. And judging by their mutterings, they would much rather be crushed to death than left to clean up the mess made by the fangirls.

'I can't do it, Mr. Weight!' the figure yelled tearfully. Again, the weight would have rolled its eyes. Enough was enough. This figure was starting to drive Mr. Weight mad. Mad enough to paint his face white with red bits and go around singing and dancing about how much hated everyone and everything.

'That's it. I'm outta here,' it muttered, throwing itself off the end of the rafter and plunging seventeen feet through the stage below.

'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! MR WEIGHT!!! NOOOOOO!! OH CRUEL FAAAAAATE!!'

It had taken a long time for Psi to catch up with Edgar and Sabin; the former had been chasing the latter around the Opera House in a mad fury. They only just managed to escape death when a seemingly suicidal four tonne weight crashed down onto the stage after they had sprinted across.

'You'll never catch me, brother!' Sabin was yelling. Edgar gritted his teeth and grabbed his chainsaw from a conveniently placed pocket.

'Oh yes I WILL!' he yelled. Psi paused and watched them.

'Eesh. Brotherly love, eh...?' She continued to chase them. She was going to talk to Edgar if it killed her. And if she didn't get him at the concert, she was going to go to Figaro and hunt him down. And if she couldn't catch him there, then there was always the next concert.

She blinked slightly. There was a weird feeling coming over her. She felt all...

'Fangirly!?!' she exclaimed. 'Nooooo!!'

Edgar and Sabin ran past her, yelling curses at each other. Psi's head followed Edgar as he whipped past, and a grin formed on her face.

'Ah, who cares? Everyone has their weaknesses... EDDDDDGAAAAR!' She began to sprint after them, little anime hearts buzzing around her head.

Hamka was waiting by the foyer, eyeing the leftover merchandise.

::Squeak?:: she said, pointing to a ripped, bright red t-shirt. She could make an excellent robe out of that and still have enough to make her human a new hat. The salesman eyed the shirt and shrugged.

'60 gil, what with it being damaged and all,' Hamka raised an incredulous eyebrow.

::Squeaky squeak? Squeak squeaky, squeaking squeak!' The salesman nodded.

'You have a point. And you drive a hard bargain. Alright, 59 gil,' Hamka rolled her eyes and prepared the Flare the idiot. Where was her human when she needed him?

High above the rafters, the figure was knelt, bawling his eyes out. His poor friend, Mr. Weight, had cast away his own life, all because of that stupid band!

'Whhhhy?!' the figure crooned, throwing back his head and sobbing to the heavens. 'Whhhy?! He was innocent! Why couldn't you take me instead!!' The rafter he was on creaked dangerously, causing the figure to frown and look back up at the sky.

'I didn't MEAN it! Sheesh!' He stood up. The rafter creaked again, causing the figure to shake a fist at the heavens.

'I swear. You kill me, and you'll never hear the end of it...' Somewhere up above, a heavenly body laughed madly. The rafter snapped, and the figure let out a long burst of expletives as he fell to the stage and hit. With a crunch.

The En...

'No, no, no...'

The figure punched the author on the jaw and stormed his way to the keyboard.

'There is no way you're ending it like THAT! I do NOT give in to fate!' What can you do? It's fate!

'I can cheat fate. I'll be back. Mark my words. Let these pinheads have their silly little band and their silly concerts. I WILL be back and I'll have a little surprise waiting for them. Uwhee hee hee!!!'

Oh dear... What have we begun?


End file.
